


Eventide

by FlightsofFancy32



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Corvo Bianco (The Witcher), Friends to Lovers, M/M, Undefined Relationship, geralt loves giving oral, he said so himself and proved it in the books, i wont forget it, set in the late years of their friendship but in the early days of their involvement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlightsofFancy32/pseuds/FlightsofFancy32
Summary: Evening falls on Corvo Bianco.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 136





	Eventide

**Author's Note:**

> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> A bit of dialogue came to me in the middle of the night and dragged me out of bed so I wrote most of this at 3AM. Oh writing bug, I have missed you but not your sleep stealing ways!
> 
> I have been working my way through the books. I am partway through Lady of the Lake right now and I have the book characters in my mind. In this story, I will be using the name Dandelion.

\---

In the mussed master bedchamber of the Corvo Bianco estate, Dandelion leans back on his elbows and stares fondly down at the man sprawled between his thighs. 

“Have you mistaken me for one of your maidens? I won’t be ready for another round for some time.” Syrupy warm amusement coats Dandelion's voice.

They’ve barely just come down from the heights some minutes ago. Dandelion is only a man, a man in his forties at that. Geralt, exceptional specimen that he is, appears wholly dismissive of the concept that your average man needs something of a recovery period. Indeed, his old friend has already pulled away from their loose embrace and eased himself down to nuzzle and mouth along Dandelion’s hipbones and lower.

A careless shrug is his only response. 

Despite his doubts, Dandelion is managing more than a twitch of interest. It’s not as though Geralt’s efforts are displeasing. All is very, very pleasant. And Dandelion has yet to get used to the way his friend looks in these situations. The very sight of him...applying himself with such casual determination...mm. Excites him. And yes, does arouse him.

Geralt is gently nosing around his balls, like he has all the time in the world and cannot be hurried. He begins trailing his hot open mouth up and over Dandelion’s half-interested cock. But wait…

They both freeze in surprise, eyes meeting over Dandelion’s fully renewed erection. Geralt’s face brightens in gleeful triumph as he tilts up a conspiratorial grin at him. A sudden sense of camaraderie slings between them and Dandelion laughs in delight--just as Geralt’s hooking powerful arms under his thighs and settling in on his belly.

“Incredible, truly,” he hears himself giggle like a fool. “I want to take this moment to say how...ah...,” oh his cockhead juuuust inside Geralt’s warm mouth--by the gods! “...how proud of both of us I am.”

A sudden reflexive smile stretches Geralt’s mouth taut and lets Dandelion’s cock slip free. A smile which dimples Geralt’s cheek and deepens lines at the corners of his friend’s eyes. 

Dandelion himself is smiling so hard his cheeks ache. How often has he made Geralt grin that grin over the years? Many times, surely, though countless by no means and precious every time.

He goes on, feeling pinned by Geralt's keen gaze in the dimming light. “For my part, naturally...pride in the timing...for...yours...” breathily, entirely too breathily---

Strong hands cup and squeeze his ass. “Do you _ever stop?” ___

__

__“You, oh, you already know! For your part, my dear,” Dandelion curls his legs around Geralt’s shoulders, his toes pointing almost like a dancers. “For yours, it’s your skill I take pride in. Let me say, bravo.”_ _

__

__Familiar exasperation. Geralt shakes his head. Less familiar, the heated glint that enters his cat-like eyes. “Some things do not need to be said in words.”_ _

__

__“What’s this? Philosophy in bed!” Dandelion gasps dramatically. “Banish it at once.”_ _

__

__“Hmm.” He shivers at Geralt’s low growl, vibrating against his inner thigh. “And banish your wordsmithing with it.”_ _

__

__When they'd first tumbled into bed earlier that evening, golden light from the setting sun over the vineyard still poured through the arched windows, filling the air around them in a glow._ _

__

__This is later; the remaining light is the blue of dusk. The air is noticeably cooling, chilling the old sweat and all the new places Geralt’s mouth has been. Dandelion’s hips move, seeking warmth._ _

__

__He holds his breath when Geralt bends his head to task again. Dandelion catches a glimpse of his cock sliding back into his friend’s mouth before Geralt’s long white hair slips down obscuring the sight._ _

__

__Sensation engulfs him...soft warmth...little sounds...attentive ah, ah, attention…_ _

__

__He reclines into the heaped bedding, tension beginning to coil._ _

__

__Fast breathing, his own, is one of the loudest sounds in the room. Oh...Geralt! With his slower heartbeat and even breathing and disinclination to flushed cheeks! Dandelion feels he is the only one coming undone. And he is...he is…_ _

__

__Whatever embarrassing sound he makes at that point, well, that’s strictly between him and Geralt._ _

__

__The flush of pleasure and warmth is still ringing through him when Geralt, licking his lips, hikes up a bit so he can rest his cheek on Dandelion’s belly._ _

__

__Dandelion, feeling a great many things all at once, tips his head back and closes his eyes. By touch he reaches for Geralt’s head, cupping the back of it, threading his fingers in his friend’s hair._ _

__

__When his breathing has returned to normal, Dandelion slowly opens his eyes in the direction of the ceiling. It’s full dark now, not that such lighting matters to witchers, but he can scarcely pick out shapes in the night gloom._ _

__

__Dandelion continues to stroke Geralt’s hair. Then, fingertips brushing skin, he gently massages along his friend’s jaw._ _

__

__Still quiet, Geralt rests more heavily upon Dandelion’s stomach and legs, his muscles languid._ _

__

__Unwilling to break the hush for once, Dandelion tarries, despite the chill on his skin._ _

__

__Geralt finally dislodges himself, raising up to elbows propped on either side of Dandelion’s ribcage, where he pauses._ _

__

__“Looking at my face?” Dandelion guesses. Warm hands spread along his sides. He widens his legs so Geralt can move closer._ _

__

__“Mmhmm.”_ _

__

__“...and?” Dandelion asks. Geralt has a special way with silences. They can be exhaustively vocal. This one isn’t. “Ha. You know, I’ve been thinking of having an epic portraiture done--”_ _

__

__Breath fans out across his chest. “No.”_ _

__

__“Oh yes,” Dandelion grins in the dark, happy that the intimate quiet has broken. “By the way, pull up those blankets while you’re down there. Yes, I think if I’m going to immortalize this face, why wait any longer?”_ _

__

__Grumbling, “Epic portraits, ordering me around, I can see where this is leading.”_ _

__

__Blankets yanked up to Dandelion’s chin do not make up for losing Geralt’s solid weight on top of him, but it’s not bad either, especially when his friend sinks down by his side, cozy close under the blankets with him._ _

__

__“Mm? Pray tell, where is it leading, oh witcher?” Dandelion drawls, curling into his friend’s space, not leaving more than a couple inches between them anywhere._ _

__

__Movement in the dark, then a cautious arm is drawn around his waist._ _

__

_Thump thump thumpthump, _goes Dandelion’s heart.__

____

____

___ _

___“Where it’s leading, is back to the hell that was our first stay in Toussaint.”_ _ _

___ _

___He sputters, “What do you mean, ‘that hell?’ You couldn’t possibly...be referring to our extended stay in the lap of unparalleled luxury? Which was provided to us by my connections to a certain someone who shall remain unnamed while in bed--”_ _ _

___ _

___“You misremember, as usual, how insufferable you were at the time.”_ _ _

___ _

___“Pah! Insufferable?”_ _ _

___ _

___“You put on airs--”_ _ _

___ _

___“I was, to say the least, highly in favour with An-uh, a certain someone who really should not be named--”_ _ _

___ _

___“Annarietta. What? You’d already half-spoken it.”_ _ _

___ _

____“--while we reside in Toussaint, _Geralt.”__ _ _ _

___ _

___Geralt who hadn’t been moving around per say, somehow seems to still. There’s a heaviness to this quiet._ _ _

___ _

___“What is it now?”_ _ _

___ _

___“Have you cause for concern?” Geralt asks seriously. His arm tightens around Dandelion’s waist._ _ _

___ _

___“From Her Grace?” Dandelion says in surprise. “No, of course not. We--oh. No, I was only teasing. Mostly. We parted ways on good terms. She’s still...fond.”_ _ _

___ _

___Silence falls between them once more. A loaded silence. They are both considering, after all, the possible ramifications of the impassioned Duchess of Toussaint discovering her former lover involved with another, right under her nose so to speak. On Toussaint land, where Toussaint vines grow Toussaint grapes. At Corvo Bianco._ _ _

___ _

___Dandelion closes the last bit of distance between them, tucking his head under Geralt’s chin. “It will be fine,” he says. His foot slides between Geralt’s bare calves._ _ _

___ _

___“It would be a stupid way to die,” Geralt muses dryly._ _ _

___ _

___“Like that’s ever bothered you.”_ _ _

___ _

___“Hm. Concerned and bothered bear different weights.”_ _ _

___ _

___“...philosophizing in bed again? And about death, too. No more, I say.”_ _ _

___ _

___“Bossy,” Geralt grumbles. “My point earlier was all about how damn bossy you are.”_ _ _

___ _

___“Since the very first,” Dandelion reminds him. He feels Geralt’s lips brush against his forehead and his breath catches. Even this close to Geralt’s skin, he can’t smell any hint of the acrid chemicals his friend habitually takes when on the Path. Only sweat and natural musk and earthy floral notes from the vineyard._ _ _

___ _

___How long has it been since Geralt last fought?_ _ _

___ _

___Beneath Dandelion's cheek, his friend still feels tense like he's anticipating trouble._ _ _

___ _

___He places a hand over Geralt’s heart, feeling the slow and steady beat._ _ _

___ _

___“Peace,” Dandelion finds himself moved to whisper into Geralt’s chest and, maybe, the heartbeat leaps._ _ _

__

__

____

____

\---

**Author's Note:**

> I am so thrilled with all of the Witcher worlds! I hope to create and share more and more. 
> 
> The setting of this story was definitely inspired by the absolutely gorgeous Dandelion/Geralt art created by Johix, so a big shout out to her! You can check her work out on tumblr. 
> 
> xx


End file.
